Monday could not have been a better day as far as Harry was concerned. His mood was outwardly happier than it had been since school started, and even the weekend's loss could not dampen his euphoria as he headed to breakfast.
Sitting next to Neville and Hermione, he could even tolerate their chatter about Professor Sprout's assurances that they would in fact be working with Flesh-eating Thistulas this coming week. Even Transfiguration proved to be exciting, as Professor McGonagall seemed ready to allow them to practice partial self-transfiguration. Granted, giving himself a beard wasn't in and of itself useful, but having met Tonks, Harry could see the usefulness of changing one's appearance, even if not to her capacity.
Even better, Ron managed to give Parvati a beard, earning him glares from the female segment of the class and snickers from the males.
It was afternoon charms that proved to be what Harry would later use to fuel his more powerful patroni. Sitting in the midst of the Hufflepuffs, Harry was practicing the 'Sticky Fingers Charm' with Susan Bones when the room was filled with an agonizing scream coming from the Slytherin side of the classroom.
Startled, Harry looked up – to see Malfoy staring at the stump that which to be his hand, the extremity in question lying limply on the table. For a reason Harry was going to immediately question her about, it was obvious Daphne Greengrass, the girl who had given herself in every way but one to Harry just last night, had gone beyond even her own psychotic tendencies and /cut off Malfoy's wand hand/.
Oh, the curse wasn't dark – the hand could be reattached, but the audacity of said action almost had Harry running across the room and shagging Daphne then and there.
Daphne took on a reasonable look of horror and appalled. She screamed an apology and exclaimed that Malfoy's fingers had stuck to her rather unexpectedly, and she had fumbled the incantation and wand movement. Professor Flitwick, as always a trusting man, tried to calm the distraught girl while firmly directing Pansy to aid Draco in rushing to the hospital wing.
The class was dismissed early, and Daphne recognized Harry's look as a summons to stay behind. As their classmates filed out ahead, Harry and Daphne entered an abandoned classroom next door. Upon entering, Harry forced Daphne against the wall, and without further delay, pressed her into a toe curling kiss. Harry knew his abilities currently were found wanting, but practice makes perfect, and what the two lacked in experience they made up for in desire and the rapture of the moment.
"Daphne, as…completely bloody brilliant as that display was, you are going to have to control your sociopath tendencies. Don't want anyone trying to de-claw my deadly kitten do I?"
She raised her head to look Harry in the eye. "He tried to grope me – thought he'd get an extra cop under the excuse of the sticking charm…No one touches me – I'm yours." Her conviction, her absolute faith in that statement was too much for Harry. Another kiss, just as long and fierce as the first, and Harry broke away.
"I'm still going to wait till Sunday to ravish you properly my wicked little witch, but you most certainly deserve a reward for that act. On your knees."
Daphne purred, and with the same cat-like quality gracefully knelt onto the floor, her head even with Harry's crotch. Needing no further prompting, she began to undo his robes. As his robes opened, she grabbed his zipper, pulling it down forcefully and freeing his growing erection. Cooing, she leaned into it, slowly brushing her fingertips down its hardness, as if trying to memorize every part of her master's length.
"Now pet" Harry whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. A rising wizard he may be (apparent now in more ways than one), but he was as much a virgin as she was, and could not fully contain his nervousness or excitement and what these next moments would bring.
Slowly, unsure herself, Daphne folded her hand over the base of his cock, and placed a chaste kiss on the tip of its head. Then, with a burst of speed, she began to pump him with her hand. Taking his hiss as a sign of approval. She began to take him in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock.
"Daphne…Daph…bloody fuck…" Harry quickly became unintelligible, but the tone of his garbled ramblings was obviously supportive of her actions. Quickening her actions, Daphne attempted to deep throat the engorged organ in front of her, and after three failed attempts succeeded in taking Harry until her nose brushed against his pelvis.
The feel of the throat muscles and the other hundreds of sensations rushing through Harry's body proved too much, and when she looked up at him – a paragon of innocence in her mischievous eyes, Harry was unable to control himself any longer, his knees buckled as he shot himself down his dark angel's throat.
The climax of her master sent Daphne past her own sexual peak, and the two broke apart with a wetpopas Daphne separated herself from Harry's appendage, causing another shudder to run down Harry's spine. After a moment of silence, reflecting on their newfound passion.
Harry weakly pulled Daphne off the floor and with a strength he could not say how he mustered, attacked her mouth viciously, the taste of himself on Daphne's tongue sent erotic thoughts flashing through Harry's mind, and he wondered if perhaps next time he could have Daphne rub his scent just under her nose, so that she might wear him in open sights.Another timeHarry thought through his stupor.
Reluctantly pulling apart, Harry could hear the other classes ending for the day, as students began pouring into the hallway. When all was quiet again, Harry looked down at Daphne, and with a gentle grazing of her lips, whispered "Till Sunday, pet."
With a nod of her head, Daphne made to leave the room. Just as she reached the door, Harry called out, "Daphne?" She turned around, hope and excitement in her eyes. "Don't forget the hairs – wouldn't want to have to dismiss you after that performance."
Her eyes widened in horror and sadness, and even Harry had to marvel at the sheer coldness of his statement. With another nod, more submissive this time, Daphne walked out the room, Harry following minutes later.
Leaving Arithmancy class late that same afternoon, Harry rushed to the Great Hall for dinner. The fervor that evening was tremendous – everyone recounting the story of the Charms class, and becoming progressively more outrageous to the point where Zacharias Smith was telling a group of first years that Malfoy's hand had on its own accord tried to kill him, and Malfoy had been forced to take such a drastic action to save his own skin.
As Harry was the only Gryffindor to have seen the event fully, he was naturally the center of attention at his own table. Harry naturally had no desire to tell anyone Daphne's real intents, but even a glossing over of the event itself was more than entertaining enough for a group that lived, breathed, and ate anything negative that occurred in Slytherin House.
Even Hermione pulled no punches, observing that perhaps karma does exist after all. It was, in the end, a rather contented Harry that went to bed that evening.
Nothing compares to Monday, but this week has certainly been very good to me. I've been able to sneak of to my Room of Desires more than once, and am quite confident I can pull off the Blood Branding Spell. I also tested the Brittle Bone Curse I discovered earlier this summer, as well /Lamakirbas, a spell of Turkish origin that turns one's wand into a magical lash. It was used by Sultans to punish eunuchs guarding the harem, and I'm sure I'll find a way to put this to use.
I've had Daphne help me test the door – seems like the room is exactly what one needs it to be. I can keep specific people out, make it soundproof, hell – I can even make the door such that someone standing three feet away won't actually notice me coming out – it'll just seem that I appeared out of nowhere. Not very subtle, but it keeps the room hidden.
Ever since her little search and rescue, Ginny is becoming far to open in her intentions towards her. I can't hex my own housemate without garnering unwanted attention, and especially not one with three siblings nearby. Honestly, why Ron and Ginny can't just shag one another like every other generation of Weasly's is beyond me.
Nonetheless, the point is I need to get a girl friend – or at least one I can openly show off. Until recently, I'd still been harboring a lingering crush on Cho. Funny, how having a golden beauty between your legs can lay such things to rest. The girls still cute, but I'm going to need to date someone in this house, as the whole point of this exercise is to drive Ginny away and up the wall. So Cho is out for now.
To be honest, I approached the whole thing on the seat of my pants. I needed someone to grope and snog in front of the weasel, but I wasn't too keen on some clinging tart. Granted, in time and another shot of magic I could do whatever the hell I want, but altered personalities in the public eye are not going to keep me out of the spotlight. Not to mention, I've got to play a balance – at least while I'm at school.
As tempting as it would be, if every good looking girl in school suddenly swore off men, someone would notice something, and I know just how sneaky people in this place can be if they want to find something out. So patience is again going to have to be my friend.
Everything came together on Friday. Quidditch practice was a bust…/yet again/. Ron's proven himself unable to play in front of a crowd, so Angelina has recruited all of Gryffindor to come to practices in an attempt to get Ron over his predicament. Hasn't worked. No matter what the rest of us do, practice always ends just before Angelina breaks down in tears.
Desperate to get out of her sights, the rest of the team is quick to bugger off and lay low for the weekend, and I decide to stay behind, enjoy the peace and quiet and the warm showers by myself. Half an hour later, I emerge from the locker room, refreshed and slightly less pissed at Ron. As I head out, I hear a stifled sob coming from the girls shower room. I head over and pause outside the door. Sobs again. I swear if I wasn't so pissed at Ron for making a girl fall to tears I'd probably be grinning. Perfect.
Harry cautiously stepped inside the girls' end of the locker room, to find Angelina sitting on the floor, her arms over her head, sobbing quietly. She looked up to see Harry, and rubbed at her eyes, trying to hide her sniffles. "
Angelina…are you ok?" Harry asked soothingly. "Yeh…yeh I'm O.K. Harry. Thanks." She responded with a watery smile. Harry smiled tightly back and then without a word, leaned against the wall and slid down next to her.
Still not speaking, Harry tentatively placed an arm around her shoulder, and Angelina lost control, beginning to sob again, louder into Harry's shoulder. Harry pulled the girl into a sideways embrace, and for several minutes the two just sat their, Harry serving a towel for Angelina's tears.
"I got your robes wet." Angelina finally declared softly. Harry chuckled. "S'alright. Just got out the shower anyway." With a short laugh, Angelina began to calm down. "I don't know how you do it Harry. All you adventures, all the public screaming at you one way or the other. You must think I'm really pathetic to be this bent over quidditch and exams."
Harry looked into her eyes. "Nah…I think you're a strong person, and to be honest, I still break down – my secret to success is silencing charms." A chuckle escaped Angelina's lips. "Angelina…I know Ron's my best friend but…you shouldn't be like this. NEWTs, the quidditch captain, seventh year – you should be enjoying your last year at Hogwarts, not crying in the locker room corner. What I'm trying to say is…if you decide to pull Ron off the team, I'll support you. I'm sure Fred and George will, at least deep inside. This isn't fair to you…" Harry trailed off.
Angelina let out a sob, then sniffled again. "Harry, when did you get so sweet?" "Always have been" Harry quipped, "It's just now that I've acquired this devilishly handsome body that you've begun to see it."
Angelina laughed again. "Angelina…maybe this isn't really appropriate right now but…well Hogsmeade visits begin in two weeks and I thought maybe…If you wanted to…" Harry mumbled. Angelina laughed, "Harry, are you asking me on a date?" Harry grinned, "Well, yeh."
Angelina smiled, sincerely for the first time. "Harry I'd love too – just promise me your not trying to wheedle yourself into your captain's good graces," she joked. "Oh I am, just not because of your captain title."
With a shared laugh, Harry got up and gently hoisted Angelina to her feet. Walking together through the castle, the pair stopped in front of the Fat Lady, and with a slight moment of hesitation, Harry leaned in and kissed her gently. It lacked the passion of his times with Daphne, but there was a deceptive softness as their lips met in that brief moment.
Stepping through the portrait hole, Angelina and Harry said goodnight, and made their way towards their respective staircases. At that moment, Ginny came flouncing down the stairs, smiling and Harry and not so coyly ogling him in his training robes.
Already on a mood-swing rollercoaster and just finally feeling content, Angelina turned around, walked up to Harry, and attacked his mouth with her own. Harry's own shock disappeared in an instant, and he returned the kiss, deepening it as his arms slid around her waist.
Angelina smiled into his mouth, placing her own arms around his neck and began to grind slightly into his body. Pulling away only when she had heard a loud huff and a rather ungainly stomping back up the stairs, Angelina smiled brightly at Harry, and with another smile, gave him another quick kiss. "Good night Harry" she whispered, before turning back towards the stairs, hips swaying slightly as she went.
Harry grinned. /Little minx, he thought /you have no idea just how perfect you are/. As Harry walked up the stairs, he flung himself on the bed, relieved that Ron was obviously not yet in the common room. Taking a night off from his out of class studies, Harry cast the silencing charms on his bed, and drifted off into another night of bliss.
Saturday can't go by soon enough. Ginny's glaring daggers at me, which is a pleasant change of scenery, though I'll be fucked sideways if Hermione's showing signs of jealousy that lead me to believe our relationship isn't as platonic as I always thought.
I'm still far too skinny for my age, but I'm growing a bit – my training in the Room of Desires is wholly magical, and I've been eating well at school as well as aided by potions I'm keeping stocked via owl order. Nonetheless, it seems that I'm no longer the frightened little boy that entered this school, but I do have to wonder just how much of this attraction is the due to the raw power of my magic. Something to think about I suppose.
Halfway through the afternoon, I meet up with Angelina for a snog and cuddle. Oh the looks on their faces are priceless. If Ginny and Hermione were envious before, well – this just kicked it up a notch or three. Fred and George start hooting, and Ron appears to be torn between being happy for me and jealous that no one would snog a little fuck like him. He's going to blow his top if…well when…Angelina pulls him from the team.
I image she'll wait a few weeks – we don't have another game for a few months at least – but I can't imagine him actually improving. No longer my problem.
Sunday – I've been testy all day. I'm reallyreallylooking forward to tonight, and after my little tryst at the beginning of the week I haven't spent any time with my vicious princess. I've also been preparing a little 'entertainment' before I get down to business. I've even come up with just how I'm going to get out all night.
Angelina 'convinced' me to meet her after curfew in the Astronomy Tower. What she doesn't realize is Daphne has let Filch know that a few Gryffindors are planning a romantic tryst this evening. In short, I will be trapped in the tower, Angelina will be caught, and I will be stood up, and after a few hours fall asleep.
Just after nine, I head towards the tower. Got to cover my tracks after all. Sure enough, from beneath my cloak I can see Filch hiding around a corner, looking for all the world like a wrinkled parody of that muggle spy film Dudley likes to watch. I can hear Angelina coming – girl needs to work on her stealth.
As if rehearsed, Filch jumps out from behind his hidey-hole and Angelina screams, and a minute later he's escorting her to McGonagall's office. Ten minutes later they reemerge, and Angelina sullenly heads back towards the common room, looking longingly towards the tower. I really am a bastard, setting up my girlfriend to take a fall, just so I can play with another girl. Makes me feel all fuzzy inside.
When Filch turns a corner, I stupefy him from behind. With a quick levitation charm, I take off my cloak and sling it over his body. Taking out the map, I begin my slow quest towards my secret Room, an invisible Filch floating next to me.
I enter the room, and am pleased to see the room has taken the appearance of a hospital room. Not what Daphne has in mind I'm sure, but I'll change it just as soon as I've had my fun. I place Filch on the bed, but leave the cloak over his body. I'll have to learn just how one washes invisibility cloaks – greasy little squib.
Daphne enters the room and I immediately embrace her, pulling her into a searing kiss. It's thrilling to do this knowing my "girlfriend" is sulking in her room, thinking I'm waiting for her in the astronomy tower. After a few minutes of dueling tongues. I kiss her forehead, and ask her in a soothing tone one might reserve for a puppy, "Did you bring what I have demanded my little one?"
She nods and grins, though it's obvious she is still confused as to the purpose of my request. She hands over eight small vials, each holding a few strands of each Slytherin in our year. I pull out a small box from my pocket. With a quick flick, I enlarge in till it's a box about a cubic foot in size.
"This", I smirk, "Is a full cauldron's worth of Polyjuice Potion. Seems Professor Slughorn did a demonstration for the sixth years, and thought it wise to keep such a potent potion lying around his classroom." Fred and George had bragged about their victory in obtaining a vial of Felix Felicis. Why Slughorn thought it prudent to keep a love potion, a luck potion, and Polyjuice in such close proximity as scores of hormone riddled teenagers is beyond me, but his idiocy is my gain.
With a flourish, I pull the cloak off of Filch. Daphne's face is marred with disgust and confusion. I chuckle. "No worries Daph – the night's young, and we're going to have a little fun before we get to the good stuff. You've passed the test Daph – after tonight, you're mine, for now and forever."
Her face lights up at this proclamation, and I've already got a raging hardon. Taking a hair from the jar labeled 'Malfoy' and put it in a sample of the potion, turning it cloudy silver. Forcing Filch's mouth open with a quick /Mala Obvia, I pour the contents down his throat. He grimaces and I have no doubt he's in great pain...but he's also unconscious, so there isn't a lot he can do about it.
After a minute, I have a replica of Draco Malfoy wearing Filch's greasy rags. I should have brought Creevy's camera along for this. "Lift his sleeves" I call to Daphne. She complies and suddenly she realizes just what we're doing. Polyjuice works to render a magical glamour onto the individual who consumes it. As it's tied to the magic and well as the physical essence of the person, something as magically ingrained – such as the dark mark, should in fact reveal itself on a Polyjuiced individual.
I honestly have no idea whether blood magics will show themselves, as in my desired tattoo, but I've obviously got to make sure none of my followers can be so easily revealed.
Malfoy proves to be clear. When I tell Daphne to prepare the potion for Theodore Nott, she pauses. "Harry…Master… a Polyjuice potion taken when in another form…I don't know how safe it's going to be."
I snort, "The bastard could end up stuck between Goyle and Bullstrode and it would still be an improvement." She smiles, and returns to her work before I have to ask her again…good girl. Nott, Zabini, Davis all end up clear, and I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps the dark mark is not as parasitic as I assumed. I really should have taken something from Snape's to act as a testing base, but there you go – hindsight and what have you.
Success! Goyle has the mark! I've got one pegged within the boundaries of the school. Bullstrode and Crabbe both have the mark too, though Parkinson comes up empty. Looks like those three aren't worth the effort of keeping hidden. This is a start – as long as I keep my name out of it an attack on those three is going to become a new priority of mine – if not at the moment a very urgent one.
Still posing as Crabbe, I take the now trembling and very pale Filch out and dump him in a broom closet a floor down, before returning to Daphne. Bastard will be out of it for a while longer, and he's such a hated git, he won't know where to look for the perpetrators. Odds are he won't even tell Dumbledore, too humiliating. I love pride, especially in other people…
Harry opened the door to the Room of Desires, and the room began to change as he stepped inside. The clinical nature of the room disappeared, and the room grew out slightly, leaving a room a rich shade of burgundy. A fire stood against the wall opposing the door, but the dominant feature in the room was the large Victorian-style bed, decorated in a dark green, in stark contrast to the rich burgundy walls.
Daphne gasped, and looked longingly at Harry, who was grinning and ogling her with a feral glint in his eyes. "Disrobe, Daph" Harry said in a quiet, almost reverent tone. The girl slowly removed her Robes, and stepped forward as if treading across sacred ground.
Removing her clothes, she was left standing before Harry wearing only her bra and panties, a sight then and there he decided he would make sure to see over and over again.
Lowering his wand onto his hip holster, Harry ran his hands over Daphne's skin. Slowly running his hands over her arms and up her back, he undid the clasp, freeing her breasts from their constraints. Stepping back, Daphne, in the epitome of pureblood grace slid her hands into her knickers, sliding them down her legs and stepping out of them, standing in all her nude glory in front of her master, allowing his eyes to roam over every inch of her body.
Harry drank her in. She was perfect, and she was his. His eyes traveled down between her breasts, over the gentle curve of her stomach, landing on a scar on the side of her hip. Her skin was unblemished, and Harry again felt a thrill of pleasure knowing that all of this, all ofher, belonged exclusively to him. Daphne, his most fierce angel. /It's where Apollo had it wrong,Harry musedDaphne craves darkness, not the light.Harry pulled out his wand, and in a voice of whispered awe, he incantedCruor Vincotorqueo.
On her left breast, right over her heart blood began to pour from no visible wound. Daphne hissed, though from pain or pleasure Harry was unsure – perhaps both. The blood began to take shape, becoming a rose flower, spreading across the sides of flesh. When the pattern was complete, the rose seemed to shimmer, and then darken becoming a red so deep it was almost black. Before it reached that final stage, it began to lighten again, becoming the faintest pink – almost,almostblending seamlessly with the pink of her areola.
Harry was deep in thought, whispering the multitude of charms that would give the brand a practical function. As he grew silent again, a stem began to sprout from the rose, a dark green. Halfway down, the stem began to change, meta-morphing into a snake, and shifting to the same emerald green of Harry's eyes. The snake began to curl back on itself, opening its mouth and poised to attack the nipple just beside it.
Just before it could bite, the snake froze, and Harry opened his eyes to inspect his handiwork. Daphne moaned, still riding an invisible high.
Harry was pleased with the result. The deed was now permanent, and the Blood Rose looked exactly as it should. The stem was of course his own design, and he was happy with the finished product.
He would not test the charms right now, as Hogwarts' wards would annul the most critical of them, but he expected no problems from his brand. Daphne opened her own eyes, and the total obedience towards him made Harry almost come on the spot. "My most loyal", he whispered. 'Your most loyal", she whispered back.
"Undress me Daph", Harry answered in the same soft voice, unwilling to break the enchantment of the moment. Moving towards him, she undressed him quickly, though not hurriedly. The moment was too powerful, and they still had hours to go before they needed to return to their respective dorms. Harry's last thought pertaining to anything other than this beauty in front of him was a quick,I need to wake up at 6 o'clock.
As his pants pooled around his ankles, Harry lost any awareness of conscious thought.
The tender moment was rapidly descending into a far more frantic frenzy. Lips locked, Harry and Daphne fought their way towards the bed, hands moving everywhere and nowhere all at once. Falling in a tangle of limbs amongst the sheets, Harry began placing fierce kisses down Daphne's jaw line and collar bone and down to her breasts.
Lifting his palm to her right breast, Harry began teasing the nipple, as Daphne arched into his touch, desperately trying to increase the friction between the two, trying in vain to satisfy the heat that was coursing through her.
Slowly at first, but faster as he gained confidence in his actions, Harry began to knead her breast, watching in awe has her nipples grew hard due to his teasing. His gaze turned to her other, currently ignored breast, and was overcome with the desire to suckle on the nipple that was forever out of his mark's reach.
Curious as to what effect this would have on Daphne, he lowered his head and flicked his tongue; subconsciously stimulating his parseltongue abilities. The reaction was instantaneous. Daphne moaned loudly, shouting incoherently around her own gasps.
Continuing to tease her, Harry's other hand worked its was down her body, stopping at the patch of soft, golden curls at the entrance of her sex. Her hips arched upwards, demanding his entrance.
Harry continued to trace the swollen edges of her pussy lips. Daphne was shuddering now, twisting and turning in this new dance of pleasure and torture. Releasing his hold on her breast, he ignored the mewling from Daphne at this loss of contact and brought his hand, now wet with Daphne's desire to his own lips.
Licking his fingers, he sighed deeply. "Taste like magic Daph." Harry mumbled. Daphne whimpered again, and Harry was not sure just how much longer he would survive.
Taking Daphne's hand, he guided Daphne's hand to his straining cock. Needing no further prompting, she wrapped her hand around his dick and guided him to the entrance of her sex. "Look at me." Harry choked out, and with a final breath, thrust himself into Daphne, tearing past her maidenhood – the last barrier of his total domination of her being.
Daphne hissed, momentarily overcome by the pain of having this previously virgin territory suddenly torn asunder. Harry stopped his thrust, allowing her to become accustomed to his size, and then began to pump in and out, each time pushing himself deeper and deeper with Daphne's urging as she thrust up to meet his attacking hardness.
The tempo of their lovemaking increased, and both were taking frantic ragged breaths when at last, Daphne came, her orgasm only sending Harry into a spiral of ecstasy. Seconds later, he pulled out of Daphne, and with a grunt and incomprehensible cry, sprayed his seed over Daphne's outstretched belly. Daphne mumbled what may have been 'Protection Charm', but Harry was lost to the world, just coming down from the dizzying heights of carnal pleasure.
The two lay in silence for sometime, unable to express in words the experience they had just shared. Deciding that perhaps no words were needed, they spent the remaining hours caressing and exploring what in their frenzy had been missed, and eventually fell asleep with Daphne spooned deeply in Harry's chest, lying contentedly in her master's arms.